Sans Fig Leaf

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"No harm, no foul?"

5 September, 2002

I hold doors for people. As a child, my parents impressed on me that it was very impolite to walk through a door and let it slam closed behind you if someone is a reasonable distance behind you. The definition of reasonable distance was variable. If someone were carrying packages, or was elderly, walking with a cane, or in a wheelchair, a reasonable distance was considerably longer than if the person had both hands free and seemed to be able-bodied.

I never remember either of my parents making a distinction based on gender. They certainly never told me to. I got scolded exactly the same if it was a man I let a door close in front of as I did if it was a woman.

My high school debate coach was an outspoken feminist. And she gave me a good chewing out the first twenty or so times I held a door for her. Despite my assurances that I held doors for everyone, she didn't believe me until she noticed me holding a door for a guy--specifically a jock she knew had once conspired to ambush and beat up one of my best friends (I and another friend got wind of it and staged a counter-ambush; we all wound up in trouble, but my friend didn't get beaten).

It was only then that she would accept that my motive when holding a door for her had nothing to do with generations of patriarchial oppression.

There were folks who couldn't understand why she was so upset. I was asked more than once why I didn't just let a door slam in her face. For one thing, I could empathize. I knew what it was like to have an adult talk to me as if I were a child. Being condescended to did hurt, ever-so-slightly. I could imagine what it is was like to never be taken seriously by men in authority, feeling you have to work twice as hard as a man in the same job to be thought compitent, and so forth.

But it also hurt, ever-so-slightly, to be chastised in front of my peers for being a nice guy. So a little stubborness slipped in on my side.

After the incident where she saw me holding a door for someone she thought I had every reason to dispise we had a long heart-to-heart conversation. She apologized for not believing me. I apologized for being stubborn. We discussed how difficult it is to see things from another person's point of view.

Even when the other viewpoint is explained, it's tempting to dismiss the situation as a simple misinterpretation. "No harm, no foul." Except there was harm.

Unspoken messages can cause just as much emotional harm as blatant verbal abuse. The fact that we didn't intend to hurt someone's feelings doesn't mean that those feelings weren't hurt. While it's true that we can't undo something simply by saying, "I'm sorry," we also can't patch up a relationship by refusing to express any regret at the misunderstanding.

Just as miscommunication is a two-way process, so to is reconciliation. Too many people assume that once a miscommunication has been explained, that the matter is old news and can be forgotten. But that which hasn't been forgiven, will not be forgotten.

Sometimes when we sincerely say we are sorry, the other person is unable to forgive us. If we have made a sincere and reasonable effort to patch things up, we can move on with a clear conscience. The operative word there is "sincere."

After my coach and I had our discussion, our relationship was better. We both had a new appreciation for the other's point of view. And when I next held the door for the team members who were walking behind me, she smiled and said, "Thank you!" When she held open the next door I returned the thanks.

And everyone took their turn.